


In The Blink of An Eye

by Awkward_nobody188



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Child Abuse, Incubi, Light Angst, M/M, Mating, Mpreg, Original Character(s), Pack Dynamics, Romance, Werewolves, creature!Harry, djinn, fae, incubus, leanan sidhe - Freeform, mentions of domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:33:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6752323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awkward_nobody188/pseuds/Awkward_nobody188
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Fenrir Greyback and a few of his pack members go hunting one night, they come back with more than they expected. Harry Potter didn't live the perfect life everyone thought he did. Can Fenrir help him?</p><p>I'M SORRY I SUCK AT SUMMARIES, GEEZ, IT'S HARDER THAN YOU THINK, OKAY?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

     The air whistled in their ears as the pack ran, urged on by the smell of fresh blood. Gaining speed, they followed their leader faithfully, knowing Fenrir wouldn't lead them astray. Branches grabbed at their bodies and clung to their clothes, but were gone in seconds. Each man skillfully and swiftly dodged the thicker limbs, occasionally jumping over a fallen log. The smell of humans got stronger with every few feet, until the stench of society burned their noses. Nonetheless, they ran, too tempted by such sweet blood to resist. When the younger men thought they could no longer stand it, they all stopped, paused by a single hand from Fenrir.

     Peering around and over the tall man, they watched as a small figure hurried across the street, seemingly in the direction of a run-down playground. A hoodie covered the figure's upper body, the hood itself pulled tightly around the person's head. The small bit of face they could see was covered by sunglasses, leaving only a small nose and thick pair of lips visible. Dried blood crusted around a large gash in the person's lip, and just the sweet scent of those few drops was enough to take away the pungent scent of humans and their homes.

     "Aren't those things around his eyes used during the day?" One of the younger men, Rory asked. "Hush," his Alpha commanded. The figure looked over at the tree line, staring directly at the spot that they stood at. Quickly, the eight large men pushed together, all trying to dodge the man's view. Luckily for them, the figure was distracted by a loud popping sound. Before their eyes, a man appeared before the figure, covered in tattoos and markings. "Djinn," the figure spat out. There was clearly bad blood between the two. "Young one," the man nodded at the figure. "Don't call me that," the figure spat back. "I am two thousand years old, I will call you what I wish," the man said, and walked closer to the small figure. He raised a hand and dropped it on the concealed person's shoulder. Quickly, the person reached up and twisted his arm, kicking out his knees and shoving him to the ground. Once the older man was there, the figure rolled him onto his back and put his foot on the man's throat. A few of the pack member's breath hitched subtly.

     "What do you want, genie?" The figure spat at him. "Someone should have told you to respect your elders," the man replied, before, with a pop, he was gone. Quietly, the figure swore, never noticing the man pop up again behind him. A few of the wolves were tempted to call out to him, and warn him. Without a sound, the man strode to the small figure, spun it around, and lifted it off of the ground, holding it firmly by it's throat. The figure kicked and clawed at his hands, a gurgling sound coming from it. The djinn shrugged a bit, then slung the man to the ground again. It landed a few feet away, it's chest heaving. "I do tire of these games," the man said. With a wave of his hand, the sunglasses and hoodie disappeared from the figure.

     A sharp intake of breath came from every pack member except the Alpha, who was watching the revealed boy carefully. He was wearing clothes clearly too big for him, the shirt falling off of both of his shoulders. The jeans sagged off of his hips, the beaten sneakers barely flaps anymore. The boy- no, young man, had skin the color of ivory, which seemed to glow in the moonlight. Even from here, the pack could see the vibrant green eyes, which were almond-shaped and held a wild look in them. His hair was a mix of waves and curls, scattered wildly in the air. His thick lips were a light pink, aside from the large gash. A small, sharp nose completed the pictures. The man was nothing less than beautiful, with an even jaw line and noticeable cheekbones. Only the gash in his lip and a big, black bruise around his left eye marred his features.

     "Why have you not healed yourself?" The djinn asked. "That's none of your business." "Ah, I see. You are starving. I suppose that's why you are leaving yourself so vulnerable and have fought so terribly." The man hissed at the genie. "It's a bit difficult to focus when your body is feeling as if it will flip inside out and eat itself." "Huh. Well, I don't like you without a bit of fight. I assume you have enough to use some power?" Uncertainly, the man nodded. With another flick of his hands, two men appeared in front of the man, and the djinn seemed to disappear. Quickly, the man slipped off his shirt and the werewolves watched as his eyes filled with blackness, like ink swirling in water. All of his teeth sharpened into spikes. In the blink of an eye, he jumped onto one of the men's backs and ripped his head back. A black gas rose from the victim's throats, seemingly sucked from his body to the man's. The man beside them cried out in shock and fear, and began to run. The creature flicked his hand, and the man froze. The werewolves watched with a mixture of fear and curiosity as the man who had been drained fell to the ground, the creature gracefully jumping off of the corpse.

     The creature walked with a feline grace, smoothly grabbing the man by his throat and throwing him a few feet away. Quickly, the creature walked to the man and sat on his chest, his legs pinning the man's arms to the ground, his groin hovering above his throat. Again, the mist rose from one man and went into the other. This time, it had a different effect. The creature's back arched, its groin grinding into the air, occasionally rubbing against the man's throat. His head was snapped up towards the sky, his eyes closed tightly. Moans occasionally escaped him, muffled by the mist.

     When the mist stopped flowing, and the man dropped back, clearly dead, the creature on top of him opened his eyes and stood neatly, popping his back and neck. "You can come out now, genie." The tattooed man reappeared, smiling gently. "Better?" The smaller man sighed, "It's always easier with less clothes. Speaking of which," he glanced down at himself. A look of peace covered his features, which returned to their original state. The green eyes took over again, his teeth retreating to normal. Both the bruise and gash healed in seconds. "These clothes are horrendous." The jeans disappeared, revealing baggy boxers that were holey and sliding down. They also disappeared, along with the shoes. The creature looked at the djinn. "I've never been much for undergarments, how about you?" The djinn just smiled indulgently. The pack of werewolves were shocked into silence at both the man's nudeness, and his nonchalance about being naked. As werewolves, they were used to being naked and seeing each other nude, but most other people were self-conscious, and none of them looked like this creature did. More than a few of them were turned on.

     A pair of tight, black leather pants formed and snaked around the man's legs and waist. Combat boots swirled from the air and materialized around his feet. "I don't quite want a shirt on right now," he said decisively. "What am I missing?" He looked up and asked the djinn. Without a word, the man pointed to his head. "Ah, yes of course. Time to get my locks back." His hair twisted and began to grow, never stopping until it reached his waist. It made quite the contrast against his pale skin. As if invisible hands were weaving it all together, his hair began to braid until three loose, thick plait braids ran down his back. Two swung over his shoulders, covering his nipples and stopping beside his belly button. The last one swung freely down his back, stopping at the edge of his pants. Even Fenrir had to admit the boy was beautiful.

     "Now, what do you want?" "That's a bit rude, considering I just fed you." The beautiful boy hissed at him. "Don't speak of me like I'm some pet. I don't owe you anything, just so we're clearly. If I could bear the taste, I'd rip your head from your shoulders and drain you of every inch of life you have. You're just lucky djinn magic is so disgusting." The tattooed man chuckled quietly. "You've only gotten funnier with age." "Don't speak like you knew me so well as a child." "I am the reason you have your gifts." "Gifts? Is that what you call it? No, don't get it twisted, old man. My great-grandmother and grandfather bested you, even though they were mere mortals. So, you cursed them out of anger, and now the two curses run through my veins, passed down from generation-to-generation. It's not my fault you're such a pathetic genie that humans bested you."

     A small smile twisted the djinn's lips. "Let's see just how pathetic I am, huh?" "Gladly," the small man smirked wildly, evilly, and his eyes again filled black. He crouched slightly, his arms in front of him protectively. Looking peaceful, the djinn suddenly shot forward, clearly aiming at the smaller creature. Gracefully, the smaller man jumped up and flipped forward through the air, over the djinn, clearly using magic to fly then land swiftly. His braids cut through the air, creating a whistling noise. He whirled back around. "Come on, old man. You can do better than that." The djinn smirked, and disappeared. The small man closed his eyes, listening for a few minutes. Even the werewolves could detect no sounds. Out of nowhere, the man was thrown back, falling with a thud to the ground.

     His fingers lengthened into claws, which shone in the moonlight. Suddenly, he screamed, and began to claw at his eyes. "You bastard! Give me back my sight!" With another wave of the djinn's hand, the man grasped and pulled at his ears, his eyeballs now popped and gushing blood. Slowly, he peeled his ears halfway off of his head. "Stop taking my senses!" No longer in control of his body, the creature clawed at different parts of his body, shredding his flesh and skin into ribbons. His breath came out in frantic gasps, and he clutched at his throat, unintentionally slicing it open. Suddenly, he fell back, the djinn disappeared, and his hair returned to its short, wild style. His eyes returned to their human green, His baggy jeans reappeared, just as two fat men began to walk across the street. One was clearly the father of the other. "Boy! Is that you?!" Upon reaching the injured man, he bent down to look closer. Slowly, a malicious smile spread over his face.

     "Stupid freak tried to run away. Idiot got attacked by an animal." Breaking the silence, the man wheezed, drawing the shorter man's attention. "Dad, he's still alive!" With a snort, his father replied, "Good. I hope he dies a slow, painful death." Turning, he began to walk away, not noticing his son picking up a large rock from the ground. "I'm so sorry, Harry." With that, he slammed the rock down, over and over, crushing the man named Harry's skull. When it seemed Harry was no longer breathing, he dropped the bloody rock and began walking away. 'The cops will find him now,' thought Fenrir. A noise brought his attention back to the scene in front of him, and he watched as black mist swirled from inside of the two fat men, and floated to Harry's body.

     The tall one dropped to the ground, clearly dead. The other stumbled for a moment, looking disorientated, before dropping slowly to the ground as well. Fenrir could tell he was still breathing. Slowly, like a broken doll, Harry lifted up and rose from the ground, his brain exposed by his broken skull, skin and flesh still hanging down off of his bones. All of the werewolves were holding themselves back from running to him and eating every bone in his body. His blood smelled so good. They watched in a mixture of disgust and curiosity as a jelly-like substance filled his empty eye sockets. It hardened slightly, forming another pair of emerald green eyes. Ears grew from the sides of his head, pushing the half-ripped off ones completely off of his body. Slowly, his throat and flesh sewed itself back together, before being covered with a line of skin. Chunks of pale, pink meat flew up from the ground and resealed itself to his brain, before chips of bone began to form from midair, covering his brain with a thick skull. Finally, skin, flesh, and hair grew and recovered the once broken spot.

     "How did he do that?" Brett quietly asked his Alpha, his voice trembling slightly. "If he is what I think he is, his kind is extremely hard to kill. There's only a few specific ways to kill them and finish the job." Harry's hair grew again, down to his waist, this time hanging lightly in waves and smooth curls. His leather pants and combat boots reappeared, and though he looked tired, he seemed alright. The genie reappeared. "I bet you thought that was funny, using my own abilities against me, suffocating me with my own magic." A sadistic smile twisted the djinn's lips. "Why don't you run and tell Mommy and Daddy about it? Oh, wait, their burning in Hell right now, and I put them there. You were only two weeks old when I slit their throats, you know. You were just as vulnerable then as you are now."

     With a curl of his lips, Harry spat out, "You don't know anything about me." The genie chuckled cruelly. "No? I know how your Aunt and Uncle starved you of food, and love. They threw you in a cupboard, and locked you in there for weeks at a time. You were only let out to do their chores, and when you did a good enough job, you got leftovers, not that there were ever a lot of those, in a family of pigs."

     He stepped a bit closer to Harry, his voice dropping an octave. "I know how your Uncle likes to drag you out of your cupboard at night, and molest you in every way possible. And you take it, like a little whore, because you're starving and it's the only way you can feed. I know he likes to rent you out to different men, and you take them too. Feed from them."

     Multiple pack members were frozen in shock at the treatment this boy had experienced. "So you know my relatives treated me like shit and I did what I had to to survive. That proves nothing." "Huh. Well, what about...Draco Malfoy?" Harry paled at the name. "I know that he treated you as nothing more than a blow-up doll. When he wasn't fucking you, whether you wanted him to be or not, he was hitting you, sometimes with random objects, sometimes with his fists. But, you loved him, didn't you Harry? Even after you saw him fucking your best friend, you stayed, like a pathetic whore. Don't you know no one will ever love you?"

     Harry spat at the ground. "I don't need love. I don't need anybody but me, feelings are worthless." "Oh, Harry. I'm not done." Slowly, he stepped closer to Harry, so he was right in front of him. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I know about Ava, Harry. I know Draco got you pregnant, and you hid it from him. When Ava was born, and he found out, I know that he suffocated her with a pillow at three days old, while his friends restrained you and forced you to watch." He stepped away and flicked his wrist.

     A small child appeared in front of Harry. She couldn't have been older than three, her body and face still holding the chubbiness of youth. She looked exactly like a younger, female version of Harry, except for the fact that her face and bone structure was sharper. Fenrir held his breath as he realized this was Harry's dead child, aged three years. Pack members all around him sucked in breaths, some even having watery eyes. Harry dropped to his knees, landing harshly but not seeming to notice. His eyes were fixated firmly on the small girl in front of him. "Ava." He breathed.

     "That's me! Ava Sophia Potter! And you're my Mummy!" Tears fell down Harry's face in quick succession. "Mummy, you're so beautiful. Do you know that? Even when you're crying." A smile gently crossed Harry's face as he laughed quietly, choking down sobs. "I'll never be as beautiful as you, my little doll baby." "You're so silly, Mummy! You're as pretty as an angel! Will you be my angel?" A sob escaped Harry, and he quickly choked another back. "Only if you'll be mine, precious thing." Ava reached forward and gently wiped away Harry's tears. "You've got a deal!" "Can I have a hug and a kiss, precious angel of mine?" "Of course, Mummy!" She leaned forward, and lightly pecked Harry's cheek, before rushing forward into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her protectively, looking as if he never wanted to let go. "I love you so much, Mummy!" "I love you too, sweet girl." And just like that, she disappeared. Harry fell forward, on his hands and knees. "Bring her back, please, I beg of you!" The djinn said nothing, and Harry's body was wracked with sobs of anguish, tears flowing down his face.

      After a few moments, he stopped crying, a few tears still slipping down his cheeks. Harshly, he wiped them away and stood up, facing the genie. "We are bringing people back from the grave now? Fine." They watched as Harry closed his eyes. His skin began to darken, stopping at a milk chocolate color. His body morphed, his hips widening, his thighs thickening. Breasts formed on his upper body, which expanded slightly, then curved. His arms filled out with light muscles, his neck lengthening a bit. His head rounded a bit, his cheeks popping a bit. His lips thinned minisculely, his nose shaved down a bit. Once green eyes changed into deep brown ones, now beady. His hair twisted until it was coarse, dark brown and braided into hundreds of small, slim braids which reached below the newly formed breasts. Eye liner lined the beady eyes in a cat-like flick, and white and blue paint dotted and marked his skin in different shapes and symbols. Brown, small beads wrapped around his neck, ran down between his breasts, and branched under them, connecting again behind his back. His stomach and breasts were left bare, and a thick skirt that fell to his knees covered his lower body. It was a light brown color, and seemed to be made out of some type of animal skin.

     When he spoke, his voice was feminine, yet still heavy, thick with some type of accent Fenrir couldn't identify. "Dear Anika. Our favorite oracle. Your mate. She's dead now, isn't she? Who killed her again? Oh, that's right. I did." A look of rage distorted the djinn's features. "Get out of her body, snake." He raised his hand, no doubt about to perform more magic, but he was stopped. Harry began to sinuously rock his body, swinging his hips, jerking his chest and arms in what seemed to be some type of tribal dance. Fenrir could smell magic coming from him, no doubt the others could too. The genie was entranced in Harry's movements, and Fenrir was too, though not because of the magic he was using. Fenrir truly thought he was beautiful, no matter what form he took. That was Harry dancing, no matter whose body he was in.

     Fenrir watched as he danced closer to the genie, before he stood right in front of him. Turning, he danced backwards until he was pressed against the djinn, back-to-chest. He reached behind him and wrapped his arms around the genie's neck. Instantly, the genie placed his hands on Harry's waist, and the two began swaying with each other, perfectly in time. The djinn bent down, still swaying, and kissed Harry with passion. Harry returned the kiss with equal fervor, before...in the blink of an eye, he snapped the djinn's neck, twisting it completely backwards. The genie's corpse fell backwards, his face permanently in a calm expression. Harry's features morphed back into his own. For a moment, he glanced back at the genie's dead body, but he then turned and looked directly at the pack members. "You can come out now. I can smell you from here, no use in hiding."

 

    


	2. Meeting The Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep descriptions kind of broad, because I want to allow you to imagine the characters how you want to. THIS CHAPTER MAY BE A LITTLE BIT BORING BECAUSE I USED IT TO EXPLAIN EVERYTHING.

     For a few moments, no one moved. Rory made to take a step forward, but Fenrir quickly shot him a look over his shoulder. Harry huffed out a annoyed sigh from where he stood, and threw his hands on his hips. "Come on, I won't bite. I really think we should talk. Either you come out here, or I'll come to you." "I'm going to go out there and talk to him, I want you all to stay here and be silent. Just listen to the conversation and come help if needed." His pack shifted uneasily, clearly not in love with the idea, but obeyed nonetheless.

     Fenrir began walking forward, and breached the tree line in a matter of seconds. Upon seeing the Alpha, Harry quickly dropped to one knee and bowed his head. "Alpha Greyback, it is a pleasure to finally meet you." Though his face gave nothing away, internally Fenrir was cocking his head to the side in confusion. "You are not a werewolf." Harry stood and straightened, his posture perfect. "No, I most certainly am not." "Yet you show me so much respect. Why?" A small giggle floated through the air. "I give respect where respect is due. It has nothing to do with being the same type of creature, or a creature at all. I would do the same thing I just did if I was just a wizard, or even if I was a Muggle, if I still knew about you. Besides, your leadership and compassion for your pack is known by everyone, though people try to distort the truth about it. It doesn't hurt that you're not rough on the eyes," Harry winked at him, a teasing smile pulling his lips up.

     Was this man really trying to flirt with Fenrir Greyback? Every one was thinking the same thing: this man is crazy. "What is your name?" "Harry Potter." Fenrir knew his eyes had widened involuntarily. "You are lying. Don't you dare lie to me!" Harry held up his hands in surrender. "I promise I'm not." "Why should I believe you?" "Why would I lie to you?" "I can think of a thousand reasons." "Of course you can. Look, just give me some time to explain everything, I promise it will all make sense." After a moment of contemplation, Fenrir nodded his head and waved his hand, signaling for Harry to continue.

     "I know you were on Voldemort's side because he promised equality and sanctuary for dark creatures, especially werewolves. I also know that he lied to you. Those were never in his plans. Anyways, no use talking about the war now and who was on whose side. Long story short, I was always a tool for the Light side. My only purpose was to kill Voldemort, and that was it. From the very beginning, Dumbledore dictated my entire life. Everyone I saw as friends were paid to be nice to me, aside from Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. My being in Gryffindor was because he told Ron to convince me to hate Slytherin. Literally everything. After I fulfilled my purpose, he realized how powerful I truly was. He was jealous, and afraid people would begin to think me more powerful than him. He spread lies to everyone about me, terrible lies about how I was secretly Dark, and how I helped the Dark Lord. He said I murdered my own godfather, and that I didn't banish Voldemort, he did. I was shunned by everyone, even Neville and Luna, though I don't blame them.

     "When he found out about my creature inheritance, everything really went to shit. Especially because I had two, both which are Dark creatures. That's all it took, and he convinced everyone I had murdered multiple people and been a Death Eater all along. I haven't been back to the Wizarding world in a few months, everyone's after me you can imagine. Aurors, the Order of the Phoenix, Death Eaters." Fenrir thought over everything he had just learned. "How come they didn't look at your relatives' house?" Harry smirked. "They did. However, I paid the Dursleys more money to keep quiet about me than the authorities paid them to talk." "Huh. What creature are you?" "Creatures," Harry corrected. "There's two, I told you."

     "Right, what _creatures_ are you?" The green-eyed man in front of him grinned playfully. "Guess." "What?" "Go on, guess. You must have some kind of theory. Let's hear it." Harry took a step forward, and Fenrir growled warningly. "Oh, come on, wolfie. I'm not going to hurt you, or your pack that's hiding in the bushes over there. Though, one of them do smell especially sweet." "So much for respect, huh?" "Hey, there's a difference between having respect and a stick up your arse." A light chuckle came from the place where Fenrir knew his pack stood. Harry grinned in that direction. "Thank you, whoever that was."

     "An Incubus?" Harry snapped his attention back to Fenrir. He began to clap excitedly, and his face lit up with glee. "Yes! Very good! What else?" Fenrir grunted. "I don't know, I have no idea." "Aw. I hoped the game would continue for a bit. Well, I better just tell you then, huh?" Fenrir nodded, hoping he didn't seem too excited. "Leanan sidhe." A loud 'huh?' came from the bushes, and they watched the bushes shake and rumble for a moment before they stilled again. "Clearly some of us are a bit uneducated, so let me inform you." Fenrir gave the small man all of his attention, as he didn't particularly know what that was either.

     "Leanan sidhe is a type of Fae. They live off of life essence, and are commonly known by their beauty and power. By legend, they are described as muses, who encourage wizards and muggles to do great things. For example, a writer would write novels that would sell out, musicians would create music that was known world-wide, etc. I've never been anyone's muse, but it is true I can feed off of people's life forces." "So, how does it work, you being both Fae and an Incubus?" Harry tsked quietly. "I'll only tell you more if you let me meet your pack, or at least the members who are with you."

     Fenrir opened his mouth to protest, to tell this creature that that was not how it worked, but before he could, Rory and Ulric stepped out of the tree line, though clearly people were trying to pull them back. Ulric looked uncertain, but Rory seemed sure and certain. Their Alpha watched as Harry looked from Ulric to Rory, before addressing his question to Rory. "He is a dominant?" Ulric looked shocked, but Rory just nodded. "And you are submissive?" "That's right." "Does he know?" This seemed to take Rory aback, though he shook his head in the negative nonetheless. Everyone else just looked severely confused, especially Ulric. "What don't I know?" He asked Rory quite loudly. He never got an answer, as Harry kept talking to Rory. "Come here, please." Without hesitation, the boy began walking forward, until he stood right in front of Harry, in between him and Fenrir. His Alpha looked severely pissed, though Harry could tell it was truly worry.

     Harry sniffed at Rory, deeply inhaling his scent. Rory looked slightly uneasy now, but he said nothing. Harry took in the boy's sandy blonde hair which stood straight up in the air, and his chocolate brown eyes. The young man was averagely handsome, as tall as Harry and thin with small muscles. His nose was too small for his face, which was rounded. "You're the one that smelled so good. Give me a moment," A look of concentration covered his face as he stared into Rory's eyes. "Your aunt was a succubus, and...your best friend's mother was a leanan sidhe. Right?" Bewilderment played on Rory's emotions. "How did you know that?" Harry winked at him. "One of my little gifts. Listen, I don't know what the outcome of tonight will be, but will you be my best friend either way?" Rory slowly nodded.

     Everybody saw the look of fury on Ulric's face, except for Rory who was focused on Harry. Harry carefully watched Ulric as he stomped over to the pair, standing right behind Rory who still didn't notice anything. He reached up to twirl Rory around, and his fist was up and clenched to punch him. Just before he touched Rory, Harry pushed Rory harshly, using magic to make him go further. Fenrir understood what he was doing, and didn't intervene.

     Ulric grabbed Harry instead, but didn't pause for a moment. He swung hard, striking Harry in the nose. A loud crunch was heard, and blood began pouring down Harry's face. "He's MY best friend!" The angered boy pushed Harry back, who went with the momentum and landed flat on the ground. Quickly taking advantage of the situation, Ulric jumped on top of him and began to kick and punch Harry in every place he could. Taking a dirty shot, he landed a firm, intentional knee in Harry's groin. The man yelped out, and pushed Ulric off of him, rolling onto his hands and knees. Black mist shot out of his throat, a loud retching sound following. Ulric looked pleased with himself, until Rory came up and hit him lightly on the back of the head. Ulric whirled around, clearly about to hit Rory too.

     Just before his fist connected, Harry appeared in Rory's place. The punch landed on his temple, and Harry's eyes looked distant as they rolled in his head. Harry glanced at Fenrir. "I'm tired of this," he said, almost lazily, though his words sounded a bit slurred. Fenrir understood, "Ulric, stop right now." The boy didn't seem to hear him, and tried to throw another punch. However, this time, the fist was caught, and twisted quickly. Harry used their momentum to roll over so he was on top of Ulric, and he pinned the boy down. His elbow held down the boy's right hand, while his hand clenched around his throat. "You dare to hit a submissive unwarranted! What kind of dominant are you? A shitty one, I'd reckon. Piece of advice: maybe you should think before you use a possible mate as a punching bag."

     Harry stood up, still looking dignified despite the bruises and cuts on his face. Ulric looked dazed. "P-Possible mate?..." The dark-haired man whirled around to glare at the boy, and even Fenrir shivered a bit. "How old are you, boy?" "S-seventeen." "That's right. You've reached sexual maturity. That boy over there," he pointed to Rory, "Has not. He's sixteen, isn't he?" Ulric nodded quickly. "He is a submissive, and you a dominant. Once he reaches sexual maturity, if he is your mate, you two will be a couple, a pair. Together in every sense of the word. And you hit him without being provoked. Maybe if you two were play fighting or something, I would get it, even if he had thrown a punch first, but neither of those were the case. You'd better get out of the habit of punching without thinking, or else no submissive in their right mind would want to be with you."

     Harry whirled back around and began to stalk off. Ulric stood up as well, floundering for something to say. Apparently, he had found it, because he yelled out, "Well, the djinn said you were with that Draco Malfoy, and he did worse stuff!" Harry stopped immediately, back ram-rod straight. When he turned back around, his eyes were solid black, and his face reminded Fenrir of a storm on the ocean. In the blink of an eye, he stood back in front of Ulric, and his hand snapped forward. The sound of the slap of skin on skin reverberated through the night sky. Ulric fell back to the ground, his lip bleeding and a large red handprint on the side of his face. When Harry spoke again, his voice came out in a hiss. "Being embarrassed does not give you the right to speak of things you know nothing about. If you ever, in your life, speak that name again in my presence, I will not be held accountable for my actions, and even your Alpha will not be able to stop me. Yes, he was my mate, and he did horrible things. Guess what? I sucked every bit of life from his body while he squealed like a pig. And when he was dead, I threw his body from the highest tower at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy to make it look like a suicide. Submissives are not weaker or inferior to dominants, am I clear? Without submissives, dominants have no purpose. Don't you dare forget it. Am I understood?"

     Frantically, Ulric shook his head up and down. Harry spun around and walked back to his original position. "I just didn't want to lose my best friend. I was so angry he forgot about me so easily. That's all." Rory spoke up. "That's not at all what happened. It's kind of hard to explain. Leanan sidhe have a different definition of best friend. Being their best friend is not a mutual relationship. It has different implications too. For example, I am now Harry's best friend, but he is not mine. You'll always be my best friend, Riccy." Ulric's eyes softened at the childhood nickname.

     Fenrir spoke up. "What are the implications?" "Only a leanan sidhe's best friend can know," Harry responded, his eyes back to green. Cuts and bruises still lined his face, and Fenrir noticed he waddled a bit when he walked, yet he didn't comment. "May I see the rest of your pack, Alpha?" Uncertainly, he nodded, and they immediately began to reveal themselves. Eight members of his pack had come hunting, leaving seven back at their clearing. Fifteen members was a lot for a wolf pack, and Fenrir was proud of every single one of them. Harry's gaze danced over every single one of them as they walked forward and stood behind Fenrir. Quickly, Rory walked to Ulric and the two went with their pack as well.

    "As you all already know, my name is Harry Potter. I am part Incubus, part leanan sidhe. Because of the combination, I have some...unique abilities. I'll answer any questions you have as best I can." "What was all that stuff with the djinn about?" Shouted someone from behind Fenrir. "May I ask, first, who said that?" "I did," said a tall, large man as he raised his hand high. The man had light brow hair, and ocean blue eyes. He was maybe six feet tall, and had broad shoulders. He looked the definition of dominant, though he wasn't as tall as Fenrir. "My name's Eli. I'm the pack's Beta." "Right, thank you. That djinn cursed my great-grandmother as a Succubus, and my great-grandfather as a leanan sidhe. They tricked him into bringing them a great fortune, a never-ending vault of gold. I'm still not quite sure how they did it, but regardless. He cursed them both into being Dark creatures, so they had a target on their back always. He ensured the curse by making sure it would never be rid of. So, no matter how many generations pass, no matter who they mate with, the Potter family heir will always be part leanan sidhe and part incubus or succubus."

     "So, why don't you stop having children?" Harry just stared at the person who made that suggestion for a minute. "We're supposed to stop living life, to put an end to a family line, all because some stupid djinn? What the hell? How's that fair?" "What are all of your abilities?" Fenrir questioned. "I can control other people's certain emotions, I-" "Prove it!" Shouted someone. "Step forward, whoever said that, please." A short, muscled man stepped forward. His skin was as dark as night, and black eyes looked out of his skull. His hair was in dreadlocks that draped down his back to the bottom of his back. "Name's Amara. So far, I think you're an okay character. I just don't think I can believe you control emotions without proof." "No?" Harry smiled. "It's only certain emotions, as I've stated, but I'll give you some proof."

     Harry's green eyes looked directly into Amara's black ones. "I'm going to state what emotion I'm controlling before I do, alright?" Amara looked like he was about to protest, realizing he was the guinea pig, but he never got the chance. "Anger." A crease formed between Harry's eyebrows, and Amara immediately clenched his fists in unwarranted anger. Harry spoke, and his voice was silky, manipulative. "You are so angry right now, aren't you, Amara? So very angry, in fact, that you can hardly contain it. You're shaking with it," And Amara began shaking. The werewolves watched with fascination. "You do not wish to harm myself, or your pack. But you just have to release your anger. Punching a tree should help." Amara began to walk towards a tree, and Fenrir growled at Harry. 

     "I will let no harm come to him, that I promise." Just as Amara reached the tree, Harry spoke up. His voice was gentle, soothing. "Calmness. Amara, what on Earth are you doing? You don't want to punch that tree. In fact, you're not even angry anymore. Every trace of anger has seemingly seeped out of your body. You wish to come back towards me, and so you do." The dark man returned to the middle of the clearing. Harry's voice turned seductive, smooth. His words were spoken breathily, though he showed no outward signs of arousal. "Lust. Amara. Oh, Amara. Just the sight of me has blood filling your member, giving you an erection so big it is painfully pressed against your jean zipper. Your legs feel as though they may give out, and you begin to sweat. Your breathing speeds up, to the point of you panting. Desire rushes through every inch of your body. Kneel before my feet."

     Shakily, Amara walked forward, plopping down on his knees at Harry's feet. "Show me how much you want me." Amara immediately leaned forward, his hands running all over Harry's chest, hips, groin, and thighs. Quickly, he kissed underneath Harry's left nipple, before he began to kiss downwards. It seemed to have no effect on Harry, and there was no bulge in his pants. Just before Amara kissed his groin, Harry said, his voice full of affection and passion, "Love. Amara. My love. Stand up, please, my love." Immediately, Amara was up, leaning in for a kiss. "Go back to standing with your pack, please, love." Amara walked back, Harry's eyes never leaving his head. Once the man stood back in his original position, Harry's eyes flickered away from him, his gaze traveling over to Fenrir. As soon as Harry looked away, Amara snapped out of his trance. "You son of a bitch!"

     "I hate nothing more than someone who calls me a liar. I just wanted to make sure you didn't make the mistake of calling me one. Now you know first hand. I can control certain emotions." "What other abilities do you have?" Fenrir asked again. "To add onto the control emotions ability, I can do that without touching or speaking, but it isn't as strong. Talking adds power, as does touching. I can read people's desires, what they are attracted to, and then morph myself into those features. When I have enough power, I can even create full images. Like beds, chains, etc. I can manifest my magic into basic sparks and defensive spells. I have increased agility, and speed. Many people mistake my speed for some type of teleportation. I can smell arousal and life essences, and when my incubus side comes out, my eyes turn black and give me increased vision, my teeth elongate. When my leanan sidhe side comes out, my eyes turn scarlet red, and let me read emotions and energies. That happens so I can detect weaknesses and how tired someone is. My leanan sidhe side only comes out when something is seriously wrong. I'm particularly great at compulsion spells. I have my own type of magic, called seductive magic. That one's kind of hard to explain. I can control my appearance, as you've already seen. All of my powers are stronger and easier to use when I'm not hungry. I've now told you more about myself than I've told anybody, ever."

     "What about your weaknesses?" Ulric asked. "You expect me to just tell you that?" "You clearly know everything about us, including weaknesses. If you want to come back with us, we have to know these things," Fenrir said gruffly. Harry smiled at him, happiness spread across his features. "You're offering me to come back with you?" "If you'd like. But we have to be able to trust you. This is a big way to earn said trust." Harry seemed to think about it for a minute, before he began to talk. "Because I am a submissive on both sides, it's hard for me to seduce other submissives and feed off of them. If I feed too much, I get a high similar to a muggle on. I'm very vulnerable during highs, and need careful watching. My biggest vulnerability...my mate. I cannot use any type of magic against them. And, of course, iron."

     "Can you tell us more about your mate and the effects of him?" Harry looked at the man who said that. He had platinum blonde hair and light brown eyes. He was tall, lanky, and Harry guessed he was the shy, nerdy type. Sadness rushed through Harry, and it must have been visible, because alarm spread across the boy's features. Fenrir was watching him carefully. "I'm sorry if that's too personal!" The blonde boy blurted out. Slowly, Harry shook his head. "No, it's not. What's your name?" "Cameron," the boy replied quietly. "You remind me of him, Cameron. You remind me of my old mate. That's all. You did nothing wrong. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

     "That's okay," Cameron mumbled back. "Leanan sidhe mate for life. Incubus don't have mates at all, their relationships function mainly like wizards and muggles. Because of my combination, I mate for life. My mate is pre-destined, though if one dies, they will be replaced. The only way to find a mate is to do magic against them. If it doesn't work, they're my mate. Leanan sidhe who are pureblooded or have no other creature blood have easier ways to find mates, but that's the only way for me. They can choose not to be with me, and remain unaffected. I, however, will forever have trouble feeding from people, I will be unable to have children, and my life will be significantly shorter." "What is the process of bonding?" Rory questioned. "Intercourse involving penetration, with both parties having the intent of bonding."

     Everyone was silent for a moment. "How do you feed?" rumbled a deep voice from the pack. "Name, please. Raise your hand, as well, so I know who I'm talking to specifically." "Name's Jaspar," the deep voice replied, and a hand rose into the air. A tan man with black, buzz cut hair and dark blue eyes had his hand raised. He was moderately tall and broad, seemingly average all around. "Well, Jaspar, I can feed off of two things: life essence and sexual energy. Different creatures have different colored life essence, which you've already seen me take. Sexual energy is taken by skin-to-skin contact. Both ways, the best way to feed is by a kiss. It distracts people from me taking their life essence, and it is a simple, yet sensual place on the body. Life essence sounds scary, but it's really just me taking energy and emotions."

     "If that's all it is, why does it kill people?" asked Amara. "I take too much energy. Your body can't function anymore without the energy. I know how to control how much I take though." A loud, excited voice broke the new silence. "What about the Council of Incubi and Succubae? Or the Fae Council? Why do you not go to them? I'm Matthew, by the way," said a short, lithe man who had green eyes darker than Harry's and dark brown hair. He reminded Harry of Hermione. "Think of it like this: there's a red team and a blue team. You're purple. Sure, you belong to both, but neither accept you because you belong to the other team. I don't fit in anywhere."

     No one said anything for a few moments. "Alpha, we are supposed to be hunting. What will we do now?" Asked Cameron tentatively. "We have plenty of food stored. We'll make up for the missed hunt tomorrow." The werewolves turned to walk back to their home. They were almost back into the woods, when Rory spoke up. "Where's Harry?" Turning around, they saw the beautiful man standing in the center of the clearing, still. He was looking down at his feet. "Harry?" Rory called out. Harry looked up, his face flushed with shame. "I...um...I'm...I'm hungry. And...werewolves smell better than any other creature I've ever met. I don't think...I can't stay around you all right now. I might lose control. But, um, maybe I could go feed and meet one of you back here?"

     He was very clearly ashamed by his request, by his hunger, and expected to be left. Fenrir walked to him, standing directly in front of him. "Can you feed from me?" Harry's head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock. "What?" "Can you feed from me? I mean, are there like, requirements about who you can feed from?" "N-No, I could feed from you. Are you...are you sure?" Fenrir smiled, a small, tight grimace-like smile. "Yeah, I'm sure." "What do you want me to feed from, sexual energy or life essence?" "What's the effects?" "Taking life essence will make you tired, hungry, and thirsty. Sexual energy will make you aroused." "Sexual energy."

     Harry glanced at the pack, who he knew had been listening. "We could...um...maybe, do it in a more private area?" He blushed brightly. Fenrir smirked at him. "Not shy, are we?" Harry flushed even harder, and pouted lightly up at Fenrir. He didn't understand how cute he looked. "Of course not. I just thought you wouldn't want to be seen like that by your pack." "I don't mind. It's just a kiss, right?" Harry looked at his feet, and mumbled quietly, "There are some other...side effects." "You said only arousal." "Yes, but arousal leads to...other things and visible signs."

     "Oh. Well, they know what can happen. I don't mind." Harry shrugged, and lifted his head. "Um...do you mind...leaning down a bit? You're too tall." Fenrir grinned down at him, before he slowly bent down a bit. Harry reached up, standing on his tiptoes, and connected their lips. At first, Fenrir felt nothing, as focused as he was on the kiss. Harry was an amazing kisser, and Fenrir lifted a hand to rest on Harry's cheek. He felt Harry's tiny hands slid onto the back of his neck. That's when it hit him. Arousal like he'd never felt before. Letting it control him, he reached down and grabbed Harry's thighs, using them to pull him up. Quickly catching on, Harry wrapped his legs around Fenrir's waist, his arms draped over the tall man's shoulders.

     Grinding into Harry's arse, a grumble escaped him. Jerking his mouth away from Harry's, Fenrir leaned down and began to suck on his neck, creating dark bruises everywhere on his neck and jaw. Fenrir worked his way up until he was sucking on Harry's earlobe. Quietly, Harry moaned. Instantly, he jerked away from Fenrir, looking mortified. "I'm so sorry!" He exclaimed quickly. Fenrir huffed a breath out, a bit annoyed at being interrupted. Fenrir locked an arm around Harry's lower back, not allowing him to escape, and walked forwards. He looked over Harry's shoulder, and stopped when they were against a tree. He leaned into Harry, so his lips were right against Harry's ear, and grumbled out, "I like to hear you moan." Just with those words, Harry groaned quietly. Fenrir resumed his task, slowly making his way down Harry's collarbone.

     "We should...stop," Harry panted. "I disagree," Fenrir responded. "They're still watching us, you know," Harry whispered. Fenrir grunted his acknowledgement. Harry sighed, and just plopped his hand over Fenrir's face. Fenrir lifted his head, confused at the odd action. He continued kissing Harry's palm, until Harry replaced his hand with his face. After a small kiss, Harry unfurled his legs from Fenrir's waist, and Fenrir reluctantly let him down. "I think you should feed more. From me," Fenrir muttered. Harry laughed quietly. "I think I'd be okay with that." "You sure you had enough to eat?" Fenrir asked teasingly. Harry playfully smacked him on the arm.

     Before Fenrir's eyes, Harry healed his bruises and slight cuts. His clothes and boots changed. Jeans hung on hi ships with a dark brown belt. A cream colored sweater that was a bit too big formed around his upper body and light brown ankle boots replaced the combat boots. His hair whirled until it was in a messy bun on the top of his head. "Alright. Let's go."  

    

    

    

 


	3. Fun Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really short, because I'm breaking it up into two parts. Also, expect future chapters to be shorter than they have previously been. I'll be able to do more chapters quicker, without having to worry if they are long enough or not. Thanks, hope you enjoy!

     "Race you back," Harry said to Fenrir, his eyes glinting playfully. "We're just going over there," Fenrir replied, though a smirk curved his lips. "So? Have a little fun, Alfie." Confusion marred Fenrir's expression. "Alfie? I thought we had established that I'm Fenrir." A joyful giggle escaped Harry. "Of course you're Fenrir." "Then why did you call me Alfie?" Fenrir was getting more confused by the moment. "'Cause, it sounds like Alpha, only I didn't feel like being all formal." For a moment, the werewolf just stared at the small man. Suddenly, a deep, strong laugh flew from the Alpha's lips, making Harry jump.

  
     When Harry realized it was a laugh of enjoyment, he allowed a large grin to pull the corners of his lips up. Fenrir straightened, the only trace of his laughter a small smile on his face. "I think my pack will like you just fine." That caused Harry's smile to grow even more. "Good! Now, are you down for a race? I think your packmates may be getting impatient." Indeed, they were shifting grumpily, only Rory was smiling, his face shining with an unidentified emotion.

     "A race? You'll win," Fenrir said, he was really starting to question Harry's sanity. "Of course I would. If I used my abilities. But I won't, and neither will you. Just us, running like humans, first one to Rory wins." The Alpha werewolf stared down at the beautiful creature in front of him for a moment, his eyes squinted contemplatively. Finally, he nodded. "Okay. But I already know I'll win." Harry smirked, "We'll see, Alfie." Fenrir huffed out a laugh. Turning, he and Harry stood side by side, one leg stretched in front of them. The wolves were watching with avid fascination, astounded by their Alpha's show of silliness. "Okay, I'll count us off," Harry said, his breath already coming in short breaths with anticipation. "One...two...THREE!"

  
     Fenrir took off, barely paying attention to the man behind him. His feet slapped against the soft grass beneath his feet, the night air brushing across his face. Quickly, he glanced over his shoulder. Harry was a few steps behind him, playful determination set on his face. Turning back around, Fenrir realized they were almost to Rory. 'I'm winning,' he thought with arrogant glee. 'I knew I would.' Just a few more feet...five...four...three...A large breeze hit his side, coming from behind him, but he paid it no mind. Two...He slapped his hand against Rory's shoulder, the force of his momentum causing him to push Rory back a bit.

  
     Hunched over with his hands on his knees, Fenrir looked up, panting. Harry stood just beside Rory. "I win," he said cockily. Fenrir straightened. "No, you didn't." "Actually, Alpha...he did," Rory intervened. The men surrounding them stared with a mixture of fascination and concern. Fenrir's eyebrows furrowed. "That's not possible...unless...You cheated!" Harry giggled. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Yes, you do! I felt it when you did, too, I just assumed it was the wind. We agreed on no abilities!" A petulant pout began to form on Fenrir's lips, but he soon fixed his expression so it was emotionless when he realized his packmates were watching him.

  
     "Whoops?" Harry shrugged questioningly, a false apologetic smile on his face. Fenrir growled, "I won," he said, poking his chest with each word. He turned and began walking, his pack members falling into place behind him. He had only taken a few steps, before suddenly a large weight landed on his back. Before he even had enough time to struggle or fight, a smooth cheek rubbed against his. "No, you didn't. I won." Harry wrapped his legs around Fenrir's waist, and let his arms drape over the large man's shoulders. "I almost threw you off." "Meh. I would've been okay."

  
     They all walked in silence for a few minutes, Fenrir occasionally bouncing lightly so Harry stayed up on his back. Rory broke the silence, though he was barely audible as he mumbled, "Harry and Fenrir sitting in a tree...K-I-S-S-I-N-G..." A gruff snort followed the last letter, though it was not a good-willed, playful snort. Harry twisted as much as was possible in his current position, trying to figure out who the mocking sound had come from. He got his answer quite quickly. "As if the Alpha would do anything other than feed a person like him," Amara grumbled, under his breath. Harry's eyes snapped to him, and the entire pack fell silent. Slowly, Harry unwrapped his legs from around Fenrir's waist, and carefully maneuvered out of his arms grasp. He had everyone's attention as he dropped to the ground, landing soundly on his feet with a thud.

     Though all eyes were on the sinful creature, Harry was only paying attention to the dark man who had conveniently began to find the trees off to their side fascinating. "A person like me? Really? Do you care to explain what you mean like that? I suggest you choose your words carefully. I don't have a very strong hold on my temper." Amara's black eyes swirled around to lock with Harry's. "I just meant...well, you know, you're not a werewolf, is all." A low, warning growl escaped the small man's body. "You dare lie to me?" In an instant, a thud resounded through the woods as Amara's head hit the nearest tree, Harry's hand wrapped around his throat. "Listen to me. Closely, I suggest. I am part Incubus. It is in my very nature to read what goes through people's minds. And so, I know exactly when you lie to me. I know exactly how you feel about my very being. Quite frankly, I couldn't give less of a damn. If people's opinions mattered to me, I would have killed myself a long time ago. So why don't you go ahead and tell everyone here EXACTLY how you feel about me, because if we are going to have a problem, I might as well leave now. I'll give your Alpha back his precious sexual energy, though I can't promise it will do him any good, and we can all forget even meeting each other."

     The wolf said nothing for a minute, his mouth opening and closing, though no words escaped. The pack had stopped the instant Harry had slid off of Fenrir's back, and were now watching guardedly, on the ready to protect their packmate, even if they died doing it. "I...um...I just...well, really..." Harry began to talk, though his eyes never left Amara's and his hold never loosened. "He thinks I'm disgusting. because I have two creature bloods inside of me, not just once. I've got no wizard blood in me, because the curse wiped out any trace of blood my mother could have given me. The only blood I have running through my veins, is that of the Incubi and the Fae. And that disgusts him. Incubi disgust him. I suppose he's fine with Fae. But even being half-Incubus makes him dislike me."

  
     Black eyes were locked with green, emotions clearly swirling in them. After a moment, he spoke up. "Incubi are known for being traitorous, disloyal, conniving creatures. He's given me know proof to point to anything different. Killing that djinn and beating Ulric like that." "That djinn was going to kill me first," Harry huffed out, slamming the bigger man against the tree. "And I only slapped Ulric, which I do not regret. It's basic manners that you don't talk about other people's personal, private business, especially when it doesn't concern you and you don't know anything about the matter."

  
     They both grew silent, and night noises filled the air around them. Harry spoke again. "I could really hurt you right now, Amara. Control your emotions, mess with your head. After all, I know quite a bit about you. That would be conniving. Yet, here we are. I've done nothing but defend myself against your allegations. Please enlighten me as to what I'm doing wrong." "I'm against a tree!" "Better a tree than at my feet." "You know nothing about me, Incubus," he spat the word as if it were a weapon. Harry leaned in, so his mouth was right on the shell of Amara's ear. "Oh, really?" He huffed out a breathy laugh.

  
     "You're mother was a Muggle, wasn't she, dear Amara? And your father, a half-blood werewolf. Though, she didn't know that, did she? So, imagine her surprise when her child, the one still in her womb and almost due to enter the world, begins to rip open her stomach from the inside. Imagine her surprise when, just before she passed out from blood loss, on the verge of dying, a hideous little creature falls onto the floor in front of her. Her last thought? I've given birth to a devil." The story was told in a low whisper, though every wolf heard it. Amara was trembling, and looked as if he wanted to murder Harry. He probably did. "You test me, I'll pass every one. It's my nature to know you better than you know yourself, so don't ever question whether or not I know anything about you."   Harry released the larger man, and turned away.

      "This is why I hate Incubi! You see?! It was meant to be a test!" Carelessly, Harry shrugged and threw over his shoulder, "I grow tired of your tests, Amara. Besides, everyone here knows that was no test. I suggest you shut your mouth now. You're only making your own situation worse." "Enough," interrupted the Alpha's calm, yet commanding voice. "I demand respect both towards my wolves, and from them. I'm not about to let any of you forget that. I am the Alpha of this pack. I decide who is trustworthy and who is not. That being said, it is my responsibility to properly punish my pack as I see fit." Though the words were clearly directed at Amara and Harry, he spoke to everyone as if they all had disobeyed him. He was a true leader and Alpha.

       "I refuse to lose control over everything just because one new person joins us, no matter for how long." The half-Incubus in front of him sighed and lowered his head, tilting to the side so that his neck was exposed. Amara looked at the ground, squishing the mud and grass with his toes. All was silent again, but only for a moment. A loud, keening sound erupted through the woods, pulsing in everyone's ears. The wolves slowly looked up, but Harry's head immediately snapped up. His eyes were a faint, gleaming red, so faded it was almost pink.

      "The Hunter is injured," he said, his voice unnaturally gruff and low. He took off, running towards the noise, though it was almost impossible to tell where it had come from, at least to the werewolves. Nonetheless, they followed him, knowing that if things took a turn, they knew the woods well enough that they could get away. Fenrir realized that Harry could have left them, zoomed away with his unnatural speed, and they probably would have never found him.  A small burst of appreciation swept through him, though he brushed it away easily. In minutes, they stopped. A large, full-grown male deer lay on its side, a hole the size of Harry's head on its stomach.

        To the pack, it was not a big deal. Harry, however, dropped to his knees right beside the buck, his hands already running soothingly over its back. The animal began to panic, thrashing its sharp, abundant antlers in Harry's direction. Jaspar and Eli stepped forward, ready to put the deer out of its misery, and prevent Harry from getting hurt, but were stopped by Fenrir. He held up a hand, and waited. Their attention brought back to Harry, they realized he was speaking. It was not a language that any of them understand, but they could feel the calming nature of them. Amazingly, the deer seemed to understand his words, and combined with the rhythmic stroking of Harry's hand, he calmed, dropping his head to the forest floor. He was clearly waiting for death to take him, his eyes already starting to close. "Not today, my brave hunter." Even that, the deer seemed to understand, though he made no move to acknowledge them.

     Everyone watched as his hands dipped into the deer's injury, staining his pale skin with vibrant scarlet color. Gentle waves of magic emanated from his hands, visible as mint green waves. The visible muscles and sinews began to sew themselves back together, his hands drawing back with every layer of flesh that renewed itself. The deer made a small, whining noise. "Hush now, it's almost over." Finally, the last layer of fur pulled back together, the finished effect looking flawlessly seamless. "Good as new!" Harry said, leaning forward and pecked a kiss on the deer's snout. The deer lifted up, trying to stand. "Now you wait just a minute! I'm not finished with you."

     The buck continued attempting to stand, and Harry furrowed his brow. His lips poked out into an angry pout, and his arms crossed on his chest. Lightly, he swatted the deer on the hind leg. "I said I'm not done! You sit back down right now, or else I'll put that hole right back on you!" The deer stopped immediately, laying back down, though a whining noise escaped him. "I'd think you could at least appreciate my generosity. This blood will be like a homing beacon to all of the predators in the forest." They watched as Harry seemingly pulled water from the ground, and washed it over the deer's side. It turned slightly pink tinged, before it slid back into the ground. 

     Finally, the fur was clean again, not a speck of blood matting the hairs together. "Now, do you need help getting up?" Slowly, the deer turned and looked at Harry. "Alright, alright. You're lucky I'm in a good mood." Gently, Harry rose to his knees, and pulled the animal to him. Rising to his feet, he never lost his grip on the animal. When both were finally standing, Harry held the buck for a moment more, letting him straighten his shaky legs. The deer pulled away from the man holding him, trotting experimentally in place for a minute. After he was sure he was fine, he turned to Harry, and bowed, his front legs falling slightly. He lifted back up, turned, and ran back through the trees, out of their sight.

     "Alright, what the fuck was that?" Ulric shouted. "I'm a Leanan Sidhe. I am the Fae that controls life itself, and its elements. Animals, plants, weather, water, fire. As such, it is also my job to protect all of the above. Think of it as me being one of many Alphas for the Earth." "You didn't tell us about that," Fenrir rumbled out. "I may have left out a few things. I'll tell you about them as we go, I just promise never to use any of them against any of you unwarranted." Amara grumbled, but no one paid any attention to him.

     "You can control fire?" Cameron asked, shyly. A flash of sadness and longing twisted Harry's expression for a second, before he straightened out again, his face a mask of indifference. "Yes, but probably not in the way you think." "What does that mean?" "I can't conjure a fireball in the palm of my hand, or walk through a room that's on fire, but I could set this whole forest on fire in eight minutes, exactly." "Huh. That's pretty impressive." A teasing smile twisted Harry's lips up, and he winked at Cameron. "Glad you think so." The blonde, shy man coughed awkwardly, a deep blush setting on his cheeks and forehead. He looked away, suddenly finding the stars interesting. "As interesting as this conversation is, we have a pack to get back to." "Yes, Alpha," the men responded. "Yes, Alfie," Harry proclaimed, cheekily.


End file.
